O, My Surreptitous Serpentine
by Kyra Renee
Summary: Secrets aren't supposed to make friends. Unless those new friends happen to share the same ones. One thing they definitely do, however, is make your old friends doubt you while putting their lives at risk.
1. Chapter 1

Deception was an ugly thing and she was a very ugly girl.

She stood before the mirror in the girls' bathroom with water droplets hanging on the ends of her damp curls. Even wet, her mane of wild chestnut hair was impossible to tame and her hairbrush lay abandoned on the edge of the sink. She hardly recognized herself and she touched gingerly at the dark circles beneath her eyes. The bags were purple, puffy and just as rotten as her soul. Sometimes she swore she could smell it festering somewhere deep inside of her and she wondered if anyone else noticed it too.

The stench of death followed her like an ominous low hanging cloud; the darkness blocking out the warmth of the sun and the vibrancy of life. She had been plunged into eternal darkness and she snatched up her bag of toiletries to sweep from the bathroom in a flurry of robes.

With her mask back in place, her chin lifted with feigned confidence and she nodded curtly to Lavender Brown and the Patil twins as she passed by them. Their hushed whispering reminded her of sharp nails on a chalkboard and she cringed as the door closed behind them, silencing their gossip and allowing her to refocus her thoughts.

A warm breakfast waited for her in the Great Hall, and Hermione exchanged her toiletry bag for the worn messenger bag she used to haul her textbooks around in. It had seen better days, but she refused to part with the reliable bag, even if it had been patched up several times by Mrs. Weasley over the years. Whatever she could hold onto, she would.

The Great Hall was bustling with commotion as students trickled in with tired eyes and wrinkled robes. It was a room bursting with distraction and she welcomed the change as she made her way across the room to slide into her usual seat across from Harry and Ron. Neither of them acknowledged her arrival as they poured over the _Prophet_ , their heads bent close together as the crumbs from Ron's slice of toast dropped onto the page. Harry shook them loose as he turned the page and Hermione cleared her throat loudly, startling him and nearly causing his head to collide with Ron's as it snapped up.

"Oh! Good morning, 'mione." Despite the smile he wore, there was no cheer in his voice and she inclined her head in response.

"Good morning. Anything good today?" She asked as she poured herself a glass of orange juice and reached for a muffin from the center of the table.

"Nuffin'," Ron said through a mouthful of toast. He was chewing noisily and Hermione gave him a pointed look that he ignored as he took another bite, spilling crumbs down the front of his robe. With a heavy exhale of defeat, she picked absently at her muffin and glanced around the hall as a gaggle of Slytherin students slipped in through the doors.

Draco Malfoy was at the head of the procession, flanked by Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Crabbe and Goyle lagged behind, looking more surly than ever and Hermione watched them as they reached the table. She wasn't the only one, and she jumped when Ron snorted loudly.

"Look at them," his lip was curling in disgust. "Walking around like they own the bloody place or something." His disdain was shared by Ginny as she dropped down next to her brother with a nod.

"Morning, Harry," the redhead's cheeks flushed as she quickly reached for the spoon to scoop some eggs onto her plate.

Hermione looked between them and shook her head in disbelief before looking over her shoulder once more. A chill ran down her spine as piercing grey eyes locked with her brown ones. The momentary shock that flashed across her face caused him to smirk knowingly and she whipped back around to face her crumbling muffin and grip her orange juice glass with a trembling hand. Sweet Merlin, how she _loathed_ that boy...

"Check out these Quidditch scores," Ron was pushing the folded newspaper towards his sister eagerly as Harry leaned around him to join in the conversation. "The Harpies are just _crushing_ everyone." Just like that, the Slytherin's were forgotten.

"Of course they are," Ginny sounded pleased as she pulled the paper close to read over the article with a smug smile.

"Told you she'd be smart about it," Ron muttered to Harry with a small smirk. "Hermione, where are you going?" His smirk faded as she rose suddenly and gripped up her bag.

"I just remembered that I have a book I need to return," she scrambled over the bench and dropped the strap of her bag onto her shoulder. "See you all in class," before they could stop her, she was rushing through the Great Hall and barreling through the doors.

It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about Quidditch (she didn't) or poke fun at Ginny for her painfully obvious infatuation with The Boy Who Lived, she just had more pressing matters on her mind. How simple life would have been if all she had to worry about were Quidditch matches and boys. But simplicity was not something that she understood anymore and she stopped somewhere on the second floor to catch her breath.

It also didn't help that Draco Malfoy was just freely flouncing around the school while she—

"Miss Granger." She groaned inwardly and turned to face the man with an even stare.

"Professor," Hermione greeted him coolly. Severus Snape turned the corner with a fluttering of black robes and his eyebrows raised in an expression that she had come to despise.

"In a hurry?" The drawl in his words caused her to visibily cringe and she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

"I was on my way to the library to return a—"

"Then I believe you're going the wrong way," he interrupted her and she grit her teeth. Her fist clenched tightly around the strap of her bag and she looked past him down the empty corridor.

"Oh, right. I must have turned myself around in all of my... excitement," she forced her gaze back to his face and the curtain of greasy black hair that framed it.

"I see." She could count her heartbeats in the echo of silence between them before he finally spoke again. "Try not to let your _excitement_ get the best of you again, Miss Granger," his deliberate enunciation caused her eyes to narrow and he stepped aside, extending an arm to direct her down the corridor in the direct she had just come from.

Hermione rocked on her heels for a moment before nodding her head and mumbling a reluctance 'thanks.' She could feel his eyes burning into her back as she strode back down the corridor towards the moving staircases.

"He's been watching you, you know," the voice drifted up from the foot of the stairs and her shoulders rose and fell in an exaggerated sigh. "I suspect he thinks you're up to something."

"And you're not?" She fired back as she looked over her shoulder. Draco leaned casually against the railing with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black pants. His hair was combed back and the tips of his perfectly polished shoes reflected the candlelight.

He ignored her words as he looked up at the staircases that moved above their heads. "You've been acting awfully different lately, Granger," he mused as though they were merely discussing the weather.

"Are you suggesting that you've been watching me too?" Now she turned around to face him and he finally met her gaze. Rather than respond, he smiled wryly. "And how I act is none of your concern, Malfoy."

"You're wrong. Everything you do now is my concern," he corrected her as he pushed away and turned his back on her to head back down the stairs. "Have fun at the library," she could hear the smirk in his voice as he raised a hand and flicked his wrist in a lazy, dismissive wave.

Had she something to throw at him, she would have. The thought of hexing him crossed her mind and her fingers twitched towards the wand tucked inside of her robes, but she stopped herself. Getting expelled was _not_ an option and besides, he wasn't worth her time. He was positively infuriating and she growled under her breath. She wanted to squash him like a cockroach beneath her heel, but he was just as resilient as the ugly bug and she watched him go.

He was just another obstacle she had to overcome and Hermione took a deep breath to steady herself as she lingered on the stairs. Only when students began to empty out from the Great Hall did she finally force herself into motion and lose herself in the sea of bodies making their way towards their classrooms.


	2. Chapter 2

The open book on the table had gone untouched for the better part of an hour. The silence in the library was deafening, but the smell of old leather and dusty pages had calmed the anxious pounding in her chest. It gave her a moment to collect her thoughts without Harry and Ron breathing down her back like agitated dragons. They meant well and she loved them dearly, but Hermione was wearing thin and the weight of their anxieties were crippling when added to her own.

There was much to do and the odds were stacked against them, even if she wished it were different. She was all too familiar with the way the scales would tip and even with Dumbledore in their corner, the chance of emerging victorious was slim.

Her arms were folded across the pages of the musty old tome to act as a cushion for her head. Feigned sleep was about the only rest she got and she turned her head to the side with a long, exaggerated sigh. She would have given nearly anything for a sleeping draught to give her a few hours and her fingers curled around her sleeves as her nose wrinkled in a disappointed frown. Unfortunately, even sleep came at a high cost and she shifted as her eyes opened.

Hermione blinked against the dim light of the library and lifted her head with deliberate slowness. Her curls were stuck her cheek and she brushed them away impatiently. Everything ached and she rolled back her shoulder with a hiss as the joint popped in protest.

"There you are!" Ginny bounced over to the empty table and dropped into the seat across from her friend. "We lost you after lunch," she eased the strap of her bag from her shoulder and folded her hands together on the tabletop.

Hermione merely blinked at her in response. How long had she been gone? She had fled to the library right after lunch with the excuse that she had an essay to finish. It had become her most common lie and she rubbed at the side of her neck with a soft groan.

Ginny was staring at the blank piece of parchment with mild concern. There wasn't a single word on the page, unless Hermione had started using invisible ink. Which would have been comical, but very much unlike the witch. Practical jokes were not Hermione's forte and Ginny shifted uncomfortably. There was clearly something on her mind, but the topic was too difficult to broach.

"So... uh, did you hear about—"

"I have a lot of work to do," Hermione cut Ginny off suddenly and the redhead gaped at her in surprise. Her tone was cool and Hermione refused to make eye contact as she shuffled around her books and her blank parchment. She hadn't meant to be so abrupt, but she didn't possess the mental fortitude required for making small talk and Ginny could easily prattle on for hours about complete nonsense. A few months ago, Hermione would have happily endured the endless chatter, but a lot had changed over summer break and she was not the same witch she had been before.

"Oh..." Ginny was hesitating and when it became clear that Hermione was neither going to apologize nor ask her to stay, she glanced around and rose slowly. "Okay. I'll just... go... then?" She never took her eyes off of her friend as she picked up her messenger bag and Hermione gave a clipped nod. "See you later?"

"Sure," Hermione covered the pages of the book with her hands and stared hard at the words until they blurred together. The echo of Ginny's uncertain footfalls bounced around between her eardrums and she took a deep breath.

She wanted nothing more than to slip back into her old skin because this new skin she wore was too tight. It was suffocating and squeezing the life out of her. It was a miracle she hadn't split at the seams and she shoved the book away with a frustrated growl. For being such a brilliant witch, she felt incredibly stupid.

What little control she had was slipping at an alarming rate and she pressed her fingertips against her temples in an effort to knead out some of the tension. Her head was down and her eyes closed as the feet of the chair across from her dragged across the floor. "Ginny, I'm really not in the—"

"Mood?" He finished for her as he sat down. "Couldn't tell, Granger. You're more pissed off than a Cornish Pixie," he remarked sarcastically as he folded his hands together and leaned forward.

Her head shot up and her hands dropped, slapping hard against the table. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for you either, Malfoy. I'm busy."

"Busy?" He peered over at her blank parchment and reached out to pull her discarded book closer. Draco flipped through the pages before clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and closing the text with a dramatic flourish. "Just because your stupid little friends believe your terrible lies doesn't mean I will too. You insult me, Granger," he scoffed and pushed the book to the side.

"I haven't even begun to insult you yet," Hermione replied dryly.

"Right, well. As fun as I'm sure that will be, that's not why I'm here," he lowered his voice and glanced around the quiet library before leaning in closer. "I came to make a deal with you, Granger."

"A deal?" She almost smiled. It was the most amusing thing she had ever heard him say and she stifled a laugh. "What sort of deal?" He was positively delusional if he thought she would accept anything he had to offer, but she was curious to hear his proposition just so she could shut him down.

Ever the dramatic, he smirked confidently as he raised himself up off of his seat so that he could lean over the middle of the table and he beckoned for her to do the same. Humoring him solely for her own amusement, Hermione used her forearms to push herself up and she lifted a leg to brace her knee against the seat of her chair. If this was some sort of trick, she _would_ hex him, consequences be damned. But the mischievous glint in his eyes suggested that he truly was up to something that went deeper than a little humiliation.

"I promise to show you mine if you show me yours," his voice was barely above a whisper and as she locked with his silver gaze, the humor instantly faded from her expression. The color drained from her cheeks and an angry red flush crept up from beneath her collar to take its place.

Hermione kicked her chair back angrily and stood up to straighten out her spine. "Come on, Granger. Just a little peek?" He got to his feet as well as she glowered at him. Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides and she huffed. If she opened her mouth, she would scream at him and Hermione needed to stay in Madam Pince's good graces.

"I bet I'll be the first," he went on with a wink as he crossed his arms over his chest smugly. She wanted to wipe that look right off his pointy face and she quickly began gathering up her belongings. Books were slammed together and she threw her quill and bottle of ink into her bag haphazardly without a care for how they ended up. All she wanted to do was get far away from him before she strangled him with her bare hands.

"You have no right!" She finally managed to stammer out as she fumbled with rolling up her parchment.

"No one will see. It's just you and me," he gestured widely with his arms.

"Leave me alone," she pointed at him in warning as she grabbed up her bag. "I mean it, Malfoy. Stay away from me. I want nothing to do with you."

"Or what? Will you run and tell your little merry band of misfit friends? Weasley is too wrapped up in his girlfriend and Potter is too busy being everyone's pet to save your sorry arse," he sneered. "You don't scare me, Granger. You're barely a witch and not a very good one at that."

His insults were burrowing beneath her already thin skin and she sucked in a breath as she fought back tears. He was a prat and she hated him, but he wasn't wrong. Her friends were too involved in their own lives to worry about hers and even though it was _exactly_ what she wanted, it still stung. Everything was changing and Hermione took a small step back. It was happening too fast for her to process and accept.

"Leave me alone," she said again as her voice cracked.

Something dark passed over his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had come and he shrugged. "For now," he jerked his chin towards the doors as her dismissal and she continued to glare for another moment before turning sharply on her heel and marching away.

She was beginning to wish they had left him as a ferret. At least then he had been slightly more tolerable.

Her mind was racing as she made her way through the castle towards the common room and a glance at her watch told her that she had a little bit more time before her next class. It also meant that the common room would likely be empty and Hermione dragged her feet through the portait hole as the Fat Lady sang opera off-key at the end of the narrow passageway.

"...I honestly don't even know why any of them are friends with her. She's always so _boring_ ," Lavender whispered to Parvati near the fire. Neither of them had heard her enter the room and whide she knew she'd regret it, she remained silent and still to continue her eavesdropping. "Ron said he doesn't even like her all that much but Harry wants to keep her around because he considers her a good friend. Really though, I think they're just using her for her brains. She isn't all that pretty, is she? She doesn't have much else going for her." Parvati hummed along in acknowledgement of Lavender's words and nodded in agreement as Hermione found herself clearing her throat loudly to draw their attention. That was quite enough of that.

The urge to cry was strong and the urge to put Lavender in her place was even stronger, but she kept her lips tightly sealed as she crossed the room and made for the girls' dormitory with purposeful strides. It felt like the entire world was conspiring against her and she barely made it out of their startled view before shattering.

Hermione covered her mouth with her hands to silence her sobs and she sank down on the staircase. None of them knew the burden she carried and even if she wanted to tell them, she couldn't. It was easier (and safer) to keep them all in the dark. If telling them the truth meant that she risked losing them, then Hermione would take her secrets to the grave.

Her friends were all she had left in the world and the one person she _could_ talk to, was the absolute last person she wanted to bother with, even though he seemed _quite keen_ on bothering her.


End file.
